Beyond the “What ifs”!

featured in the poetry forum October 26, 2020  :: 0 comments

Through the fog of the past,
The mist of the future;
I see my life through the periscope
Of word said, deeds undone,
Dreams that may come true;
And a fear of,
“What if they do?”

Sometimes reminiscing
At other times repressing,
Pondering about,
“What if…”

I stop!
I halt the mental exercise.
Snub the gainless meanderings
Of my overworked brain.

‘Coz I can’t turn back the clock,
I can’t undo what’s done;
I can only take the learnings,
And march along.

Determined to conquer,
Resolute to live;
“I got what I got.”

I move past the cobwebs of doubt.
“What I deserve…”
A blissful life
Of knowing and doing the right.

It is okay to falter.
It’s no big deal if I fall;
But I will not fail.
‘Coz my epitaph will read,
“She lived. And she has no regrets!”

editors note:

Yes, falling is not failing; no regrets! – mh clay

Dangerously Afloat

April 25, 2020  :: 0 comments

Smoothly, it floated, sashaying down the slope. It twirled around, nudging its posterior, dancing to the tune of pitter-patter. Oh! It had the moves! The notes were clear. It’s movement swift. It was a sight to see the graceful moves. Captivated, they looked at it shimming its way through. As the droplets became heavy with moisture, it bobbed as it …


featured in the poetry forum February 6, 2020  :: 0 comments

The lenses were large,
The mirror larger!
With squinted eyes,
She stared at the mirror.

The sun rays suddenly,
Blurred her squints;
Creating a mirage,
Of a girl gone slim.

She liked this moment,
She prolonged the pause;
Creating an illusion,
Fashionable and posh!

The clouds cleared the image,
But with the squint intact;
She strutted down the aisle,
A supermodel in her thoughts.

editors note:

Squint sustained to the opposite of shame. – mh clay

The Divine Key

September 14, 2019  :: 0 comments

The silence was eerie. The darkness was sinister. After his great feat, he had expected joyous celebrations, pompous gifts and that elusive key, his mentor had promised him. He was sure he would get the award of all awards. His mind reassured him that the silence and the darkness were temporary. Therefore, he decided to wait… Losing count of time, …

Are they men?

featured in the poetry forum April 17, 2018  :: 0 comments

Playing hopscotch.
Giggles galore.

Bruised, black n blue.

A wail silenced.
A breath snuffed.
A hope killed.
Humanity disgraced.

Red spilled on the horizon,
Shame smeared their souls;
An excruciating pain plundered…
Deafening shouts shook the earth.

But those men celebrated their loot,
Their masculinity forced on innocents;
Are they really men?
Because God made men as saviours,
Not to damage and violate.

editors note:

No better words than this poet’s own: The recent rape cases in India have disturbed me. For all the little children around the world and grown ups who have gone through the ordeal, or of any kind of abuse. This message is for the aggressors to do a rethink. – mh clay

The Boy by the Window

February 17, 2018  :: 0 comments

The boy by the window looked out and wondered what was special about the day. It was same as yesterday, identical to any other day. He was prohibited to look out of the window. He thought of how and why such restrictions were imposed on him. In his heart, he knew the truth. His parents didn’t know any better. They …

Bloody Rock

September 10, 2017  :: 0 comments

The sun was blazing green hues, the earth was sprouting blood like dust. The wind was icy and heavy- almost suffocating. Sunburnt twisted limbs dug. They fissured the serum of earth with violence and tickled the tarnished soil with their sickles and spades. Each brutal sweat evaporated into miasma. The wailing chill swallowed the filth, the trauma. Violence sniffled into …

The Fever

featured in the poetry forum February 6, 2017  :: 0 comments

Dreading the dead,
The cacaphonic wail;
That sinister moon,
The shivering child,
Ran up the stairs;
Covering his head,
In Momma’s hair;
Ignoring that stench,
That soaked-
Momma’s bed.

Cold as marble,
Still sweating a rain;
With shaking hands,
The child again,
Grappling the dark;
Pulled the blanket,
To cover his Momma;
All in vain.

Momma so still,
No flicker of breath,
Lay inert;
In the land of dead!
A sudden crash,
Shook the child;
Sirens blared,
Threatening the babe!

The sound a gong,
Of volcanic make;
Were they taking
His Momma away?
Shaking in shock,
He cried in pain
“Child, it’s a fever!”, she whispered
“Momma’s right here.”
Holding his Momma tight,
The child slept again.

editors note:

Life as a near-death experience. (Her short stories have already splashed in the Swirl, but now we are pleased to welcome Kleio B into our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of her poetry madness on her new page – check it out.) – mh clay

Knife Skills

featured in the poetry forum June 21, 2016  :: 0 comments

Callously –
She stared at the quarry,
Methodically –
She sharpened the knife.
She ripped off the skin,
Chopped dismembered,
After all a stew tastes best;
With onions done well.

editors note:

A justified killing; no tears for the dead. – mh clay

Internet Scam

featured in the poetry forum September 18, 2015  :: 0 comments

Slowly the poison spread,
Surreptitiously it smiled,
You tried to resist-
Alas you were entwined!

While they talked about love,
They only sold false hope,
Caught in that trap,
Your mystery unfolds.

When you are still alone,
Your timeline’s full of notifications;
You scroll till the end,
But you still have no friend.

You call it social media,
I call it a failed hope,
Wrapped around your finger,
It’s rapping on your toes.

When will you get up?
Shun this make belief clan?
Meet real people, wave an arm?
Shove away this internet scam?

editors note:

Soon… Yes! Right away… we will… First… one… more…. twitch o’ the thumb… (Kleio has moved us with her madness in Short Stories. Nice to see her poetry here.) – mh clay